Black and White
by LadyVegeets
Summary: Bulma runs into Vegeta after his shower. A quick, one-shot fantasy purging. And I'm not sorry. (Also, VegetaPsycho drew me a picture of Vegeta to go with this head canon fetish, so yeah, check that out PRONTO.)


**Black and White**

 _~LadyVegeets_

She was walking down the corridor, head in her notes, barely paying attention to her surroundings. She'd lived here most of her life, she knew these corridors like the back of her hand, could walk them blind if need be. What she didn't know was her latest guest's schedule, and that in precisely 5 seconds he was going to walk out of the bathroom…

3..

2..

1..

The door opened and Bulma looked up to see- _Dear mother of GOD._

He was freshly showered, his hair still damp, the spikes tussled and not quite in place. His body was still steaming from his hot shower, and the smell of soap and manly deodorant musk wafted out to envelop her senses that were already on overload because, dear god, would you just LOOK AT HIM?!

He was dressed only in a tight white undershirt and even tighter black boxer briefs, leaving the rest of his limbs delicious exposed, his tan, scarred skin a star contrast to the black and white clothing. And muscles… he had muscles for fucking days. His chest was impossibly big, broad, tapering down to a slim waist, before bulging out, down, to powerful legs and… and other… bulges… that… she… clksdjfeklwk

"Yes?" he snapped at her irritably, rubbing at his hair with a towel, his face pulled into an annoyed scowl.

"Huh?" she managed. Smooth.

"What do you want?" he snapped impatiently.

What do I want? _What do I want_? I want _this_ with a side of _yes fucking please right now, right here against this fucking wall, oh Kami if you're listening…_ "I…"

He sneered with annoyance. "Until that useless human brain of yours manages to formulate words, as tough as that concept is for a species as primitive as your own, I suggest you get out of my way."

Ding ding ding! Her brain kicked back into gear. Nothing like a bit of aggressive name calling to get Bulma's head back in place. She narrowed her eyes at him, and actually found the guts to jab her finger at his chest. "Excuse _me_ , mister, but this is _my_ house. If I want to stand around in the corridor with no purpose that's apparent to you, then I sure as heck will, and you can get out of MY way with your stupid spiky hair and your big pecs and tight glutes…"

Oops.

His brow arched up but he still looked more pissed than surprised. Oh good. Something about the way his lip curled made her stomach clench and heat pool between her thighs press and _wow I have issues_.

He leaned into her finger, getting _right in her face_. "You'd better watch who you're bossing around, Earth Woman. Guest or not, I don't appreciate being told what to do."

"Neither do I," she countered, making sure her finger remained firmly jabbed at him, shoving her face right back into his so that they were nose to nose, not backing down. The scent of soap and musk and clean skin was intoxicating, and his strongly defined face took up her whole field of vision, his dark eyes boring into hers, pinning her coldly, like prey. Her throat bobbed, her heart pounding, her cheeks flushing, suddenly intimidated but not for the reasons he probably intended.

He narrowed his eyes at her.

She narrowed hers back.

Suddenly he touched her hand and she jumped, letting out a humiliating yelp. His mouth twisted into a cruel smirk as he wrapped his fingers about her hand, pulling it away from his chest. "And I don't like to be touched without permission either," he said, his tone different now, a growl.

She felt her knees tremble. _Oh sweet merciful mother_ …

"Neither do I," she replied, pointedly looking at where his large, calloused hand gripped her small one. Despite his immeasurable strength, his hold was amazingly gentle.

"You started it," he said, his black eyes dancing with something. Amusement? Was he… was he _teasing_ her?

It stunned her so completely she couldn't think of a reply.

Disappointed that their verbal tête-à-tête had come to an end, the spark in his eyes died, and he let her hand go. He turned and started to walk off, bringing the towel back to his hair. "Stay out of my way, Woman," he called to her without even looking. Something about the way he said _woman_ made her shiver, made her feel every bit her femininity around his overpowering maleness.

Annoyed at herself, at _him_ , Bulma resorted to name calling. "Fuck you, Vegeta!"

He laughed, the sound low and deeply amused. "You wish."

 _Damn it, damn him… I do…_

 _Asshole_.

She glared at him, not sad to see him go, and very happy to watch him leave.

* * *

~xoxo~

* * *

 **AN:** This. Just. Kind of happened…. And I'm NOT SORRY.

Vegeta in a tight white undershirt and tight black boxer briefs. Someone, someone PLEASE make this happen. THIS IS MY FETISH. And HOMG GUYS, **VegetaPsycho** MADE. IT. HAPPEN. Check it out on twitter/tumblr. We can never have too much smexy Vegeta ;)

Check me out on twitter, tumblr, FFnet, AO3 and (p)atreon.


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